This Terminator
by Tweyelite
Summary: Sarah's thoughts. Mild f/f slash Sarah/Cameron


Title: This Terminator

Rating: G

Author: Tweyelite

Disclaimer: None of the characters r mine I just play with them.

Summary: Sarah's thoughts.

This Terminator, it's different. It's more sophisticated and better at acting human than it's predecessors. It eats, it smiles, it dances.. It even has a name, Cameron. But none of these differences change what it is. It isn't a 'she' as much as we all use that word when talking about 'her'. She, it, is and always will be a machine. Cameron doesn't care when people die. Cameron doesn't know how to care. Her mission is simple, protect John. Anything and anyone that gets in the way of that directive won't be in the way for long.

I admire the technology and I loathe it. I look at her and most of the time I see her for what she is. A soulless machine I only use to protect my son. But sometimes, when she eats, or smiles, or dances.. I can see something else. I'm not sure what that something else is though. I've watched her dance. I'm sure she knew I was watching her, trying to look into her eyes and see a glimpse of something, a glimpse of her creators, a glimpse of humanity. And sometimes I fool myself into believing that she could be more than wires, metal endoskeleton, and directives. Those are the moments I have to step back from everything and tell myself over and over that Cameron is an 'it' not a 'she'.

But I have quickly become used to having her around. And sometimes when she questions human behavior she seems so innocent. Looks are deceiving. I wish I could see what everyone else sees when they look at Cameron. I wish I could see a beautiful, sweet and strange young woman. But I know what she is and what she is here for. Sometimes I believe ignorance really would be bliss.. Because when I watch her dance I don't see a music box ballerina as I probably should. I see beauty, grace, strength and precision. All of which I long to possess.

Sometimes I wish I could be a machine so I wouldn't have to be afraid all the time. The fear that's been instilled in me oh so long ago when I met Kyle has never abated. I've changed. I'm no longer the Sarah Connor I was when I was in college. I don't even remember what her favourite book was or what she wanted to be when she grew up. That Sarah Connor is dead. This person, this warrior, is who I am now, is all that's left. I live on fear, it drives me. Fear and love. I love my son and I will protect him no matter what the cost. Not only because I love him but because he is humanities only hope for the future.

I still wonder how it is that I became the mother of the future. I never got to be John's mom, I had to be his protector, his teacher and his boon. I got to live a normal life once upon a time. John did too for a brief period of time. But Cameron, well what's normal to a terminator? I hear the music again. The music she plays when she dances. I have to watch her when she dances, it's a strange compulsion. She reminds me of a flickering flame when she does.

I want to reach out and touch that perfection but I know I will be burned if I do. This time I don't think she realizes I am here, that I am outside of her door watching her. Her eyes are closed as her lithe frame bends and sways this way and that to the music. She is smiling now. She seems like any other young woman. She doesn't finish her dance however. She stops, turns off the music, and walks to the window. I wonder why she does the things she does as I continue to try and dissect her actions with my eyes.

I watch the reflection of her face in the window pane. I see a single tear roll down her face and I flash back to another time, another terminator. "I know now why you cry but it is something I can never do." I gasp audibly and of course she hears me. She turns to look at me, not bothering as most humans would, to wipe away the wetness now on her alabaster cheek. Her brown eyes seem to bore into mine but she doesn't say anything. I can see she is struggling with something. She looks confused and sad. I've never seen her look sad and something in me breaks. I find myself moving towards her without conscious thought. I reach a hand out to her face and slowly let her tear slide onto the end of my finger. I look at her with a question waiting on my lips. The look in her eyes is unreadable now as she responds to my unasked question, "I feel." And as she reaches out her hand to grasp mine I realize I have already stepped past the unseen boundary in my mind. I can't analyze anymore. I can't resist anymore. I can't fight anymore. Besides, my hand is already in the fire and I can feel myself start to burn..


End file.
